Beginning to Live
by Writinglo
Summary: For years, Bella's life has only been comprised of numbers: how much she weighed, how may days she could go without eating, how many calories were in a small plate of food. She was forever trapped in a bubble of self-hatred and misery–that is, until she moved and met Edward. More alike than Bella thought, she realized that meeting Edward was exactly what she needed to begin living.
1. Chapter 1

Beginning to Live

Chapter 1

Hi! So, this is a new story that I started about two years ago and I just recently began to add more to it and fix it up. It deals with eating disorders and could possibly be hard to read for some. I've had body issues ever since I was a kid, so I definitely do connect with this story in a way, even though it is not my own personal story. Despite my struggles, I'm not, and I do not know anyone with the severe eating disorders displayed in this story, so if I get anything medically wrong or just something wrong or offensive in general, do not hesitate to tell me. I'm relying on Google a lot with this story to help me make it as realistic as possible.

With that being said, here's the first chapter, and afterwards, go check out my story _Baby Be Mine_ if you want to!

Don't forget to review - see you at the bottom!

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Twilight.

…

The loud sounds of animated city life was something that slightly jarred me. People were bustling around, pushing past me and Renee at a speed that was just a little too fast, suitcases trailing behind them and briefcases swinging in their hands. Cars honked loudly in the long, exaggerated line of traffic and people hurried around to locate their Ubers or cabs.

"Well, I certainly didn't miss Philly, I can tell you that," Renee huffed indignantly. "It smells like car exhaust and homeless people."

I gave her a look, but didn't necessarily disagree. Back home in Olympia, the mood definitely wasn't quite as unsettling and rushed. It was calm and easy to be comfortable in. Renee and I had a nice, two-bedroom home in a neighborhood that was close to the Port of Olympia, where you had neighbors that waved to you every morning when you got the mail and every night when you locked up. Renee grew up in Philadelphia, but quickly moved across the state with her then boyfriend, Alec, to escape the smothering air that she insisted only resided in Philadelphia.

The only reason why she was here is because my grandfather, George, had passed away a few days ago. He'd be laid to rest the day after tomorrow, right beside my grandmother, who died ten years ago from a long battle with ovarian cancer. In his will, he'd left a hefty sum of money to his only daughter and his townhouse, regardless of their rocky relationship. After hearing the news, Renee kind of had this stoic expression on her face. Her and her parents hadn't had the best relationship, mainly because she moved so far away and visited on some Christmas days and Thanksgivings, but I knew that beyond her often hard exterior, my mother was heartbroken. I immediately noticed the way she, almost mechanically, made arrangements for us to move to Philadelphia without really once mentioning her father's sudden demise. She had put up that apathetic facade, something she regularly did when palpable emotion was too much for her to handle.

"Oh, I think that's our ride," Renee said, pointing to a large Escalade. We hurried over to our ride and began lifting our suitcases into the trunk. We'd only brought two each, and mom decided to have the rest of it shipped out, including her car.

The ride to our new home took almost thirty minutes because of all the traffic from rush hour. My mother was on her phone with the company she was employed with, who had a corporate office downtown. She was the VP at Samsung Semiconductor, which is what mainly caused her life to be so busy and hectic at times. While she was on the phone, I busied myself with peering out the window and soaking up the vivid city life of Philadelphia. The streets were long and filled with cars, although people were also milling about the pavements and parks that we passed. The blocks are filled with different kinds of stores and restaurants, seemingly busy with the amount of people entering and exiting. Olympia can sometimes be busy at certain times of the day, but not like Philadelphia. The various buildings, shops and townhouses definitely contributed to this attribute.

When we pulled up to our new home, I instantly liked it. It was a narrow townhouse with a brick exterior and dark wooden door. It looks small, but knowing that my grandparents had very successful careers before they retired assured me that the house was going to be gorgeous on the inside.

"Hurry, Isabella," Renee snapped. She was already out the car and had her suitcases from the trunk. I scurried after her and grabbed my own bags before we entered the home.

It was beautiful, as expected. The dark, hardwood floors were beautiful and the furniture surprisingly modern. Renee's heels _click clacked_ against the wood as she inspected the house. Her nod of approval was all that she did before grabbing the handles of her suitcases and lugging them up the steps. I followed behind her, grunting at the weight of the bags as I lifted them up.

"This is your room," she said, pointing to a near empty bedroom with light grey walls and a queen bed with simple chevron bedding. I pulled my heavy bags into the room and sat down on the bed. It was extremely comfortable, but being in the room just felt… _uncomfortable_. It was so impersonal and bland, and the fact that I was sitting in it made me feel like an intruder.

I got up from the bed and decided to wander around a little bit. Renee was already in her room with the door shut, although I could still hear her shouting into her phone. I walked down the stairs and outside.

Washington was extremely rainy, but I knew that Philadelphia wasn't as much. I sunk down onto the step and let the sunrays warm my skin and the minimal breeze to glide against me. After a moment, I leaned back on my elbows and let the quietness surround me. It thankfully didn't seem busy around here, so maybe I could bring a chair out and sit once in a while. It was calming.

"Who are you?"

I jumped at the sudden voice and my eyes snapped open. A little kid, maybe six or seven, stood in front of me while sitting on his bike. I stared at him for a moment, before sitting up straight and answering. "I'm Bella. Who are you?"

He looked at the house, then back to me. "Masen. Why are you sitting in front of Mr. H's house?"

"Mr. H?" I questioned, then realized what he meant. Higginbottom. "Oh. He's my grandfather."

"Oh, okay." He immediately seemed to relax. "I sweep for him and he pays me twenty bucks every room."

I smiled at the ridiculous price. "Oh, that's sweet."

"Yup. So, are you visiting him?"

I frowned. He must not know that he died. "Oh, um… no." I wrung my hands and tried to figure out a way to say it. The door besides us suddenly opened and out came a guy. I froze a little upon seeing him, both from surprise and his defined and irrefutably attractive features. He was tall and lean, wearing khaki shorts and a crisp, white button down shirt. His hair was ragged and sticking all over the place, but it added to the appeal in some weird, perfect way. Since he was closing the door, his back had been turned, but when he turned, I took what felt like an embarrassingly loud breath. His eyes, even from a few feet away, were an impossibly bright green, standing out patently against his pale skin. They fit so well with his hair - a deep, russet brown with a slight smattering of bright red that noticeably glinted in the sun.

He noticed Masen and I and his eyebrows rose. "Hello," he said.

I stood and tried desperately not to stare too much at his face. "Hi. I'm Bella, um, Mr. Higginbottom was my grandfather." _Did he ask, you moron?_

"Ah," he said, nodding his head curtly. He then turned his attention to the little boy as he shuffled down his steps. "Mase, I'll be back in a few. Head back inside."

"I wanna say hi to Mr. H," Masen whined. "I haven't seen him in, like, two weeks."

My eyes bounced back and forth between the two, hating how uncomfortable the atmosphere suddenly turned. The guy frowned and gave Masen a stern look. "I'll talk to you when I get home. For now, you gotta head back inside."

Masen sighed before kicking his kick stand back into place. The guy helped him lift the bike into the house and the door shut closed behind him rather roughly. This left me and the guy alone for a few seconds, before he nodded at me once again and headed to his car. I tried hard not to gawk at his retreating form, unsure at these feelings that suddenly enthralled my body. Never have I ever felt such an intense yearning for know someone as I had at that moment.

Our door swept open suddenly, causing me to latch onto the banister to keep from being pushed over by its abrupt force. I looked behind me at my mother, whose face was pinched in noticeable annoyance as she held her phone in her hand.

"I need to speak with you," she just about snapped.

I swallowed and followed after her into the house, letting the door close softly behind me. Renee was often in a sour mood, especially when it came to me, yet she seemed especially irritable at the moment. I stood awkwardly by the foyer, waiting for her to speak as she clenched and unclenched her jaw in a steady rhythm.

"I just got off the phone with your father," she started. "And do you know what he found in your drawer from this summer?" I figured she didn't really want me to answer, so I just stood there. "He found diet pills. _Diet_ pills." She laughed cynically, dryly, and glared over at me. "For my daughter, who weighs eighty-eight pounds."

I clenched my jaw shut and mentally lashed out on myself for forgetting my pills. I figured I'd left them at his house, but I didn't think he'd actually go in my room there and find out. My voice was small and meek as I tried to muster up an excuse, "T-they were from years ago."

Renee narrowed her eyes. "I'm not stupid, Bella. And frankly, I'm appalled that you would think that I am." She crossed her arms and stared at the floor for a moment, thinking. "I'm making an appointment with a really good doctor for as soon as possible."

"Mom, I can do better," I said, stepping closer. "I-I just need time to –"

"Time to what? Kill yourself?" She scowled and opened up her phone, scrolling immediately, no doubt searching for a doctor to fix her problem of a daughter. "This is a big city, there's loads of treatment for you to get over this irrational, _disgusting_ disease." She paused and looked up at me, her finger poised carefully on her phone. "I mean, have you even seen yourself recently? I've tried to read up on and understand this… this _sickness_ that you have, but I don't understand how your idea of perfection is looking like a goddamn skeleton. And no matter how much treatment you go through, you're not getting any better."

Her words hurt deeper than I think she even realized. Knowing my mother, her words were always used as a way to get her point across, and her point in this matter was palpable. She always wanted her words as lethal as possible as a way to ensure they'd be listened to, but it only made my blistering wounds inside unbearably deeper.

"I'll talk to you later about it, okay?"

And when she was done talking, she was done. I watched her walk way, her phone back again to her ear as she disappeared into the kitchen. I headed upstairs to my room then and closed the door. Its presence was something I rejoiced in since mom took my door from our old house, insisting that privacy only enabled my condition, which I suppose was true. Still, it hurt to have that sort of commonality snatched from my control.

The door didn't lock, but I'm glad that meant I wouldn't be tempted to lock it. I'd probably lose that battle, and Renee would definitely think I'm hiding something if the door was locked.

Once I let my overflowing emotions slowly ebb away, I grabbed my phone from my bag on the floor. I'd had a few text messages that I missed from when we boarded the plane, until now. They were all from Angela, a friend back in Olympia.

Before I left Olympia, I didn't have many friends. During my high school years, when I became really insecure and felt my control slipping away, I had friends, but that slowly changed when I did. I secluded myself, scared to sit beside anyone at lunch in fear of them watching me eat. Or watching me _not_ eat. I preferred the quietness of the library, or the small, compactness of a bathroom stall. People began to talk about my dramatic weight loss from a size eight to a size zero, and I suppose that should have made me happy, but I just didn't see what they did. By sophomore year, I weighed less than one-hundred pounds and stood at 5'5, but still, I felt the need to eat less and less and work out more and more. When gym class came around, I would dress myself in the bathrooms as opposed to the locker rooms, which made girls talk even more. Once, I passed out during a game of dodgeball and practically had to beg my gym teacher not to call my parents when I regained consciousness seconds later, insisting that I just didn't get much sleep the night before.

I could tell some girls admired the way that I lost weight – in the beginning, they constantly asked me what I did and how I did it. When I whispered that I just didn't eat really, their stares turned skeptic to the whole idea and even they retracted themselves from me.

Eventually, during my senior year and in admittedly the worse state I've ever been in, I became the girl who no one wanted to know. I trekked to the back of the library during lunch to do push-ups and sit ups instead of eating. During gym class, I hid out in the locker rooms in fear of passing out again. In class, I didn't speak, even when spoken to, which hurt my grades enormously. At home, my mother was busy and did not take notice as much as school faculty did. They called her one day, in April, and the look she gave me when she finally seemed to be seeing at me for the first time in what felt like years, was something I don't think I would ever forget. It was one of those looks that you could only muster up when you saw something really frightening and distressing. Something that would forever permeate the space inside your head and cling onto the back of your mind until it was ready to randomly resurface at any given moment.

At seventy-two pounds, I had to be taken to see a doctor and admitted into an inpatient care facility. I was fed through a NG tube until the doctor said it was okay for me to be let off, and mom didn't allow me to be sent home until about a week before graduation. I honestly thought I would finally be free to do my own thing and to detach myself away from the crippling life living with my mother. Yet, I couldn't leave. I was an average high school student, who didn't get accepted into college and was at risk of starving myself.

Angela was a friend I met while at an eating disorder residential center in Bellevue when I was nineteen. She had bulimia, yet had a much more hopeful future than I could ever dream of. She was twenty-three and wanted to get better for her boyfriend, Ben, and her son Will, who was three years old. Her motivation for Ben and Will trumped her desire to lose weight and I really admired her strength. We became close and I longed for her ability to stay strong and optimistic in a time where I just couldn't be. It's almost as if I fed off of her willingness. Unsurprisingly, Angela left not long after she first came.

I opened Angela's messages and a smile instantly bloomed across my face.

 _Hey! Thinking of you. Here's a pic of me, Ben and Will at the needle! It's so high, you have to come back and visit us sometime. Love ya!_

The next few messages were of her, Ben and Will. They were beautiful pictures and showed how truly happy Angela was. I wanted to call her, hear her voice since I haven't seen her in months, but decided against it and instead sent a text of my own.

 _I'm thinking of you too. We just arrived in Philly. I really do hope I come visit you three again someday. Love you too._

I took my own picture of me smiling. When I went to view it, I cringed at my appearance. There were dark circles under my eyes and my hair was dull and limp by my cheeks. The bones in my face stood out with an uncomfortable prominence and I immediately deleted the awful photo. The message would suffice.

My door opened suddenly and I looked up at Renee. She had an expectant look on her face and I looked at the clock instinctively. It was noon.

Fuck.

I stood and headed outside of my room with Renee. We had no food in the house, so I guess we'd have to go out and eat.

"There's a lot of places around here," Renee said. "I'm sort of in the mood for Panera Bread. Good?"

"Sure," I shrugged. She glanced at me curtly as we walked outside the house. "I'm sure you'll like this – there's one that's walking distance, right around the corner."

It took about fifteen minutes to walk to, and it was a very stiff walk. I knew Renee hated this as much as I did, but I also knew she loved me in some weird, twisted, Renee fashion. She wanted to make sure I was healthy and happy, and while she could sometimes be the vilest person I've ever had to encounter, I knew that vileness somehow transferred to being all for my wellbeing.

The restaurant wasn't packed, thankfully. That meant we could easily be in and out, as long as I ate whatever Renee pushed my way. I wanted something small, so I just opted for a simple, Caesar half salad and Renee got a chicken panini.

"So," Renee started when we sat down. "I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier. I was just agitated, with work and…"

"Me," I said flatly. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Really, it's my fault. I let it get so out of control. If you'd been living with your father in Forks, perhaps he would have noticed sooner." She waved this thought off with a few flicks of her hands. "But that's in the past. We have to think about your future." She pulled out her phone and showed me a website of a care facility. "This is an intensive outpatient program, and it's a really good one with spectacular reviews. You go there three times a week, on evenings. There's group-based therapy offered that helps with coping and a nutritionist even sits down with you during a meal to help you deal with your emotions." She reached over to grab my hands and I stared at her stupidly. "I want you to feel better, Bella. As soon as you get this issue under control, you can come work for me and actually start building up your life."

I frowned. "Mom, I don't want to work in business."

Her eyebrows rose. "No? Well, what else can you do, Bella, with only a high school diploma? You don't have any job experience and it doesn't seem like you're going to college in the foreseeable future. You know how hard it is to get a decent job with no college degree."

I let go of her hands and wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. This is when I become neurotic and irritable – when she tries to take over my life like this. I opened my mouth to protest, to say anything that would answer her in a suitable way, but nothing came out. Renee gave me a wry smile. "Look. This is a spectacular chance for you to become someone. You're a Higginbottom and Higginbottom's never fall to the _bottom_ , only rise to the top." She chuckled at her joke, but I couldn't smile. I just looked down at my hands and waited patiently for our food.

A few moments later, her name was called and mom went to retrieve our trays. She began to eat her sandwich and I couldn't help but stare as she gnawed on the three-hundred-calorie, carb-filled, sliced ciabatta, loaded with even more calories and fat slathered between them. She had to be eating almost eight hundred calories in that meal.

"You know," mom said, wiping her mouth, and my eyes flickered to hers. "I used to want to be as skinny as all the models out there. But then I realized starving myself only made me hungry and angry."

 _It makes me perfect_. _It keeps me in control_.

When I didn't respond, mom grabbed my fork and began spearing some lettuce and meat on the utensil. She handed it to me and I gingerly lifted the food to my mouth and let my lips clamp over it. I had to swallow a few times as I did this, and when I finally put the fork down, I begrudgingly began to chew.

Renee and I didn't talk anymore while we ate.

…

That's chapter one... tell me if you liked it or not in the reviews, please! I love when people follow and favorite, but I also really, _really_ love reviews :) I've already written several chapters for this story, so just like BBM, I'm going to try and get them out every week or so.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

So, I only got one review from _**amazingshania** _\- and that name is very fitting, because you sure are amazing! :) Your review was really nice and I'm glad you're interested in the story. I figured I wouldn't get anymore reviews, haha (insert sad face), so I just decided to post this chapter since it was already written. If anyone is reading this, I hope you enjoy! And I also hope you review!

* * *

At five in the morning, when mom was definitely still asleep, I slipped on some sweat pants, a hoodie and my sneakers before exiting the house. My excessive need to exercise was one thing my mom hated, but something that I needed. It wasn't just for keeping any weight that tried to latch onto me, I also needed it to feel strong. I wasn't as weak as I used to be, but there were still moments where I needed to know I was stronger than everyone else thought.

I didn't know the area well enough, obviously, so I made sure to keep to the neighborhood so that I wouldn't end up lost. I threw my hair into a pony tail and began to run. My foot falls thumped heavily against the pavement and my breaths were shallow in the end-of-the-fall air. The wind was a little bit too gusty at the moment, but it only made me feel liberated and oddly, as if I were flying instead of running.

When I got to a corner some time later, I decided to turn, but this ultimately backfired when I slammed hard into the chest of someone and spiraled backwards onto the ground. The brute force of this person briefly knocked the breath out of me and blurred my vision as I lay in a dazed mess on the ground. Immediately, strong hands reached to help me up, and suddenly, I was staring at the face of the guy from yesterday. His forehead was saturated with the droplets of sweat that slid down his face and he wore a white and red striped sweat band. My eyes dropped down from his face to his chest, which was strikingly bare. He had a smattering of reddish brown, wispy hairs that laid just above his sternum, and the abs below were protuberant in my stunned gaze.

"…hello?"

My eyes snapped up to his, realizing that he must have been speaking to me as I zoned out stupidly. "Uh… what?" I breathed.

"Do you need me to call your parents, or something? I knocked you down pretty hard there – I'm sorry," he said contritely. His tone was a lot more laid back than yesterday and briefly, I wondered why. Then, when his words registered in my brain, my eyebrows furrowed deeply at him. How old did he think I was, that he felt the need to call my parents?

"My parents?" I asked, sounding even dumber than before. The guy's frown was similar to my own. "Yeah… you live next door to me, right? We're pretty far away from the block now, kid. I can walk you home if you need me to, or just call your parents." When I still didn't answer, and just looked at him, my eyes wide, he continued on. "Do your parents usually let you go this far away from the house this early in the morning?"

"Uh…" I swallowed and pulled the sleeves of my hoodie over my fingers, then said meekly, "I'm _not_ … I mean… I'm twenty-one."

The guys eyes widened when I said the words. He glanced at me from head to toe and immediately I wrapped my arms around myself, very self-conscious. "Sorry! Fuck – _really_?"

I was so embarrassed that I had to look away and follow a lone leaf fluttering in the wind with my eyes.

"Look. Fuck, I'm really sorry. It's just that… you're so small, you look… _younger_. No offense, of course, but…"

"No, it's okay. I get it. I, uh, have a growth condition, so…" I swallowed and shuffled from one foot to the other. My face had bloomed completely with red, and it definitely wasn't from the cold air. "Um. Anyway… I'm just gonna, uh… go." My sentence basically tapered off into the breeze and cracked automatically at the end. Before he could say anything that else that made me what to curl up in a ball, I rounded the corner and finished my route.

* * *

By the time I got home at seven thirty, I expected Renee to still be asleep, but she was awake and cooking breakfast with the food we brought after eating at Panera Bread.

"Out on a run?" she asked as I sat down at the island. I nodded mutely and she clicked her tongue, even without turning around to see my quiet answer. "Dr. Crowley advised that you don't continue with strenuous exercise until we are more comfortable with your outpatient service and spoke with your new doctor."

"Alright," I said. "Whats for breakfast?"

"It's almost finished. I made whole wheat pancakes, turkey bacon and eggs."

"I don't do pancakes, mom…"

"You'll just have one," she said, turning to level my gaze. " _One_."

I sighed heavily. "Okay. Fine."

When she finished cooking a few minutes after and set a plate in front of me, I made an effort to eat almost everything off the plate. I did leave a small portion of the pancakes, but I braved through the bacon and ate the eggs easily.

"Good," Renee said. "You could've eaten all of that pancake, but… good."

I stood from my seat and put my plate in the sink.

"Later on we're gonna head downtown to get you settled with your new therapist, but first I have to run to the office for a few hours. Are you gonna be okay here alone?"

"Yeah, mom. I'll be okay."

She didn't look happy, but she nodded anyway and, having already gotten ready, said goodbye before walking out the door.

I really didn't know what to do until she came back. I did some sit ups and crunches for a few minutes before doing some jumping jacks, then repeated this cycle over and over again until sweat dripped down my body and I was aching unbearably. I drunk some water before retreating to the living room and turning to the TV. Nothing much was on, but I settled for a scary movie that I saw with my mother a while ago – even before the shittiness of my life began to take over.

Halfway through, a knock on the door nearly had me falling off the couch and screaming. I clutched my chest and took a few deep, calming breaths before going to the door and yanking it open.

Masen stood there, a hat on his head and his face was red and blotchy. "Is it true?"

"Uh… what?"

"Mr. H died?"

I swallowed nervously and my hand dropped from the door knob. I wasn't really sure how to handle the situation, but thankfully, the guy from before appeared behind Masen and grabbed his shoulder. "Mase, I told you that you can't just barge in like this."

"No, it's okay," I said. "Um… yeah, my grandfather died. He was just… well, he was very old. It was his time to go," I tried to explain. Masen looked down at his shoes and the sniffles he made physically hurt to hear. I didn't even react this way, but then again, I've only seen my grandparents a handful of times. I looked at the guy, who actually looked a little sad, too.

"I'm sorry," I said, because, well… what else was there really to say?

"Well, Masen wants to attend his funeral, if that's alright," the guy said. "And myself, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course," I immediately said. "Of course you guys can come. I'm sure he would have loved that."

"Thanks." He smiled at me, a sort of smile that wasn't really a smirk, but more so endearingly lopsided. I nodded and he squeezed Masen's shoulder before they retreated off our steps and back into their home. I wondered what is name was and what he was in relation to Masen. He didn't look old enough to be his father, yet looks can sometimes be deceiving. He could be a brother or an uncle or any relative, really. I've only been here two days, but it was a little weird I've seen Masen and the older guy, but not yet any parents – if the guy wasn't Masen's father, anyway.

I closed the door when I realized I've just been standing there with it open, in my rumpled clothes and allowing an uncomfortable draft to enter the house. I turned away from the door and huddled under some quilts on the couch.

* * *

The Cope Center was a gorgeous place on a hill outside of the city. The exterior of the cozy, mansion-type building was lavishly green, with fields of freshly cut grass, beautiful green, yellow and orange trees, and a surprisingly friendly atmosphere. In Olympia, the center I stayed at was a little more suffocating, and it felt like stepping into a warm breeze when I first saw the Cope Center.

Inside was just as nice, with comfortable furniture and a wide, open space. It felt more like a home than a care facility.

One of the therapist, Dr. Cope, who I assumed owned the building and facility, greeted us at the door. She was probably about fifty years old, with grey-tinged hair and an approachable, easy presence.

"Hi, Bella," Dr. Cope greeted warmly. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," I said politely.

"You're just in time for our meeting, but we'll be a little late. I wanted to talk with you and your mother first, just so that we can get to know each other a little more. We usually do this on a separate date, but I know your mom stressed the need that we should begin treatment immediately."

I nodded and Dr. Cope led us down a hall and into an office. I assumed we would sit in front of the desk while Dr. Cope would sit behind it, but instead she had us sit on a couch while she swiveled a chair in front of us, a clipboard in her hands.

"So," she started. "Let's start with how you're both feeling today."

"Both of us?" Renee questioned. Dr. Cope nodded and Renee spoke again, "Well. I'm feeling fine, I suppose. A little tired, to be honest, running around a new area like this, but I want to get Bella the best help she can possibly receive. Bella?"

"Uh," I cleared my throat. "I'm fine, too."

"So, coming here, today… it makes you feel fine? There's no other emotions associated with it?" Dr. Cope probed. Renee looked at me expectantly and I suddenly felt clammy under their stares. I stared at my knees, willing them to look away.

"Bella, come on," Renee beseeched. "You can't just clam up. _Say_ something, for goodness sake."

"I guess… I…" I looked at Renee, then Dr. Cope. "I feel a little bit angry."

"Angry? And why is that?"

"Well, uh… I don't know. I feel angry because I don't understand… _why_ … I can't just… do what I've been doing. I know that it's not healthy, but it makes me feel…" I paused. It makes me feel what? Happy? Skinny? In control? "…like I can control everything in my life, I guess." I swallowed hard and Dr. Cope nodded as she wrote something down quickly in her notes before turning to Renee.

"And you, Renee? How do you feel, after hearing Bella say that?"

"I feel… a lot of things, actually. I feel angry because she's slowly killing herself right in front of me and I feel helpless because I'm not really able to help her, not unless she wants to help herself. I feel disgusted because she's nothing but skin and bones and looking at her every day is just another reminder that I've failed her as a parent. And I feel _confused_ because I don't understand. It's not pretty, what she does. A _skeleton_ is not what perfection is and she doesn't _get_ that, no matter how many times I tell her."

My eyes stayed glued to my knees as tears pricked the corner of my eyes. Suddenly, this nice, cozy environment became the most suffocating place I've ever been in.

"Bella?" Dr. Cope called softly. I brought my eyes up to look at her, hating the weakness reflecting in my eyes. "Your mom often talks to you about your looks, right? About prettiness and perfection, yet you two seem to have very different perceptions of what those words mean. What does it mean to you?"

"I don't _want_ to look disgusting," I whispered. "Physically, I think that I am. But mentally, I just see… I see someone who needs to skip another meal or run on a treadmill for an hour to be… perfect."

"That's not what she asked," Renee groaned. "She asked you what you think pretty is."

I sighed and looked down at my brittle nails. "I can't explain it much. Just… really skinny."

"Which you are," Renee said. "What about your hair? Do you think dull, thin hair is pretty? What about your dry skin? Or the fact that the bones in your body are protruding _sickeningly_ from your body?" Renee scoffed and turned to Dr. Cope. "I try to be hard on her, not to be mean, but so it really gets inside her brain, you know?"

"I respect your point of view and why you're doing it," Dr. Cope said. "But when dealing with patients who have eating disorders, you have to consider their self-esteem and how they view themselves. Bella is very fragile, and pushing her down even more is like pushing someone down when they're trying to get up."

Renee's lips went into a hard line, as did mine. This is already starting to become unbearable.

* * *

After that agonizing session, I wanted to go home. I didn't want anyone to see me or to interact with anyone, and as Renee left to go home until it was time for me to be picked up, I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye.

I was fuming over what she said in our session. She humiliated me in front of Dr. Cope and the words she spewed left a hard impression in my mind.

Dr. Cope led me to another room, but it included other people. There were five of them - two boys and three girls. I sat down quietly so I wouldn't disturb the person who was talking – a tiny, spiky-haired girl who was smiling brighter than anyone I've ever seen before.

"So, even though I didn't gain as much weight as I anticipated, I'm still happy because I made my sister smile. She smiled so brightly and I don't think she's been that happy in so long. She gave me a hug and I actually felt _good_ about gaining two pounds. It felt liberating and like I was _this_ much closer to being truly happy."

"That's wonderful, Alice," the therapist said tenderly. "It's good to stay optimistic, because even though you might not achieve what you originally thought you would, you still _tried_ , which is what mainly matters. Now, it seems like we have a new member."

All eyes suddenly turned to me and I shrunk back a little in the chair that I had sat in.

"Do you want to introduce yourself, or do you want me to?"

I took a deep breath and trapped my gaze to the floor. "I'm Bella," I said tersely.

"Hi, Bella. I'm glad you can join us. I'm Dr. Esme Cullen, so you can call me Dr. Esme, Dr. Cullen, or even just Esme, if it makes you feel better. Right now, we're just discussing how our day went, which is a regular thing that we do. After everyone goes, we go over each story again and, depending on if it was good or bad, we think about ways to better the predicament or how to cope."

"Alright," I said, lifting my eyes briefly before dropping them again.

"Do you want to discuss how your day went, or would you rather wait until our next session?"

Still in a sour mood, I just shook my head. Dr. Cullen spoke again. "That's alright, dear. Jasper? How about you go next."

I curiously glanced at Jasper as he began to speak. He had shoulder-length, blond hair that curled, and a soft hint of a Texan accent. He was very skinny, but he didn't look extremely malnourished, either.

"Well, my day was kind of off," he said. "I visited my father in prison, and he was just really nasty towards me. He called me all kinds of names that I don't even want to repeat, before leaving me at the booth. I know he's just frustrated that he's in a cell, but it still hurts. I went to the gym and punched a punching bag for two hours, just to let off steam, then went for a run. I was exhausted, but I didn't want to stop. When I finally did, I was livid. I was angry for letting him get inside my head and making me get so worked up. I even forgot to eat today."

Dr. Cullen nodded. "That's okay. We all have or setbacks – just as long as you know where the problem came from and how you can fix it, we can work on it together."

The rest of the time went like this. Only one more person went, Bree. She seemed to be the oldest out of everyone and talked about how she locked herself in her room so that she wouldn't be tempted to eat. After she talked about that, the group then went around again, giving suggestions to each other and words of encouragement in response to their stories. I just sat silently, basking in the positivity that hummed throughout the room and took into account each person's name. Alice. Jasper. Bree. Maggie. Peter. I almost didn't hear Dr. Cullen call my name as she asked for my opinion on anyone's day.

I thought for a moment before looking at Alice. "I like how you stayed positive. When I didn't reach my goals at my old care center, I got frustrated. I secluded myself even more and got trapped inside my own head. It made me refuse meals even more until I had to have an NG tube, which sucked."

Alice smiled kindly and said, "I was like that, too. You just have to focus on why you're doing this. What your motivation is and how to reach it. Realize your self-worth."

Dr. Cullen grinned. "Very nice, Alice. That is exactly what Bella, and everyone else needs to do. Realize your self-worth, because you are all worthy to be alive."

Dr. Cullen gathered some papers and stood. "Great job today, everyone. Your new nutritionist, which also happens to be my son, will be here any moment. So, let's head to the dining hall and see what's on the menu for tonight."

We all stood and followed Dr. Cullen through the halls. I was walking alone, until Alice stepped up beside me. "Hey," she said. "I like your shirt."

I looked down at my Beatles shirt and smiled at her. "Thanks. I like your hair."

"Aw, thanks, Bella. So, how old are you?"

"I just turned twenty-one in September," I said. Alice chuckled. "Finally legal, huh? I'm twenty-four, but my birthday passed in July. Kinda wish I had cake then."

I smiled softly at her light heartedness as we walked into the dining area. About six tables with eight chairs each were neatly placed in the room, which led out to a nice deck. Everyone sat down at a table, some decided to sit at their own or next to each other. I didn't really like when people saw me eating, so I opted for a table in the back that no one had taken yet.

"Okay, guys. The second Cullen will be with you in a second," Dr. Cullen said. "See you all tomorrow."

She left and, after a few minutes, a guy walked in. When I caught a glance of his face, I completely froze.

Not just _a_ guy.

My neighbor.

Fuck.

* * *

Sorry for any errors you may have found ~ And make sure you leave a review and check out my other story _Baby Be Mine_ if you want :)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A/N: Hey! So, several more reviewers last chapter! That's so great - I only have 9 reviews so far, but I'm glad people are reading and enjoying, no matter how small :) Let's keep the reviews going and move that number a little higher haha! Anyway, here's chapter 3... enjoy :)

* * *

My neighbor noticed me as he passed out plates of roasted chicken, mixed vegetables and mashed potatoes. His stance faltered for a fraction of a second before he composed himself and moved on. I wanted to rush out of there instantly as the walls started to close in on me and my nerves began to go haywire.

"Okay, so, good evening everyone. As some of you know, my mother is Dr. Esme Cullen. My name is Edward and I will be working with you all from now on to discuss and deal with the eating and socialization problems that you have," he stated smoothly as he sat down in a chair. "How about we go around and introduce ourselves since I'm new?"

We did exactly that, Alice starting first and then the introductions moving clockwise. Edward wrote down on a clipboard as we each spoke, most likely writing a way to remember our names. When it came time for me to introduce myself, I couldn't really hold his gaze as I whispered my name. He wasn't stupid - I know he knew who I was, but I'm going to pretend he didn't to cope with the weirdness of the situation.

"Your old nutritionist informed me that some of you like to eat separately, but I want to try something a little bit different. How about we all sit at a table together and eat one thing off of our plates? If it's too much anxiety to do this, then you can go sit at another table if you'd like, but I want you all to try and understand that no one in this room is judging you. Okay, so, why don't we all sit at this table right here?"

Edward pointed to the table in the middle of the room and we all migrated to a new seat with our plates in hand. My hands were shaking a little bit as I lowered myself down beside Alice and place the plate hastily on the table before I ended up dropping it.

"Good," Edward said, smiling. "I want everyone to take a small bite of something on their plate, or as many bites as you want. When everyone is done, let's share how it felt."

Before picking up my fork, I let my eyes sweep the table. Alice had immediately cut into her chicken and began to eat the roasted meat. Beside her, Jasper looked down with a clenched jaw at his food before stabbing a pea ferociously and sticking it into his mouth. Bree, like Alice, went for the chicken first, but only ate one bite of it. Peter ate his mixed vegetables at a normal pace and neutral expression. Maggie scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

Watching everyone else, I hadn't touched my food yet, which Edward noticed and addressed me.

"You think you can try a bite, Bella?" he asked.

My head snapped to his before my eyes roamed around the table again. Everyone was looking at me. I swallowed and stared down at my food before I ripped off a piece of my chicken and popped it into my mouth. I was tempted to spit it out, but took in a deep breath, swallowed and turned to Edward.

"Great work, everyone. Now let's go around the table and share. Peter, do you want to start?"

The rest of the session went like that. We would eat a portion of our meals until our plates were cleaned, then we'd talk and Edward would explain to us how we could better cope with our thoughts or ways in which we can formulate newer, more positive thoughts. Eating all of my food took a great deal of strength for me – especially with the mashed potatoes. It had only been a small portion size, but knowing how much carbs can be encased in that tiny amount had my stomach rolling. At the end of the session, Edward complimented us all and told us that tomorrow we'd be working with exposures. As I remember the type of exposure exercises I did in previous care treatments, I was seriously dreading this.

When we were dismissed for the evening, I didn't make eye contact with Edward and rushed out of the dining hall. Mom was waiting by the front lobby and smiled at me as walked over to her.

"Hey. How was it?"

"Oh, uh… good, I guess," I mumbled.

"Great. Now, let's hurry. We have to be rested for the funeral tomorrow."

* * *

The funeral, as gloomy as the idea of my grandfather dying is, was not as sad for me nor my mother. I barely knew him and the last time I saw him was when I was fifteen. I knew he was a good man, which is shown by the many people who showed up for his funeral and the reception. People, old and young showed up and mourned the loss of George, including Masen and Edward, who walked up to me during the reception.

"Thanks for letting us come," Masen told me. "Mr. H was a really nice man."

I smiled. "Thank you. I think he would really appreciate you saying that." My gaze swung up to Edward, who was looking at a spot on the floor. It felt incredibly awkward, knowing that he knew about my condition, but I tried hard not to let it show.

Renee appeared next to me suddenly and smiled at Edward and Masen. "Hi, I'm Renee, George's daughter."

Edward stuck his hand out. "Hello. I'm Edward, and this is my little brother Masen." Ah, so they're brothers. "We've lived next to George for about five years now, and we got to know him really well. We just wanted to say goodbye, Masen especially." Edward squeezed Masen's shoulders, which sagged in desolation.

Renee nodded sympathetically. "I understand. My father was a very nice man, I'm glad that he knew so many and left such an impact in their life."

Renee continued to talk, so I figured that would be a good time for me to break away. I went out to the front steps and sat down, immediately regretting that I didn't bring a sweater, but not wanting to go back inside to retrieve it. Renee really was right, though. My grandfather made a huge impact it seems on so many people's lives. I wish I knew him better and a slight feeling of anger simmered in my body towards Renee for keeping us so separated from them.

"Hey."

I looked up, startled, as Edward came out of the house. He nodded to the seat beside me, silently asking to sit, and I bobbed my head up slowly. We were silent for what seemed likes ages before Edward spoke softly. "So… a growth condition, huh?"

I shrugged and placed my hands between my knees. My hair was unfortunately pinned back into a bun, so I couldn't use it to hide the embarrassed blush growing on my cheeks.

"Well, I suppose that's not wrong. Anorexia _can_ inhibit a person's growth," he commented. I looked at him sharply and narrowed my eyes. I didn't really expect him to bring it up much – I mean, isn't that kind of rude? I didn't really know what to say, so I started to stand and march back into the house, but Edward grabbed my wrist gently. "No, wait… stay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

His tone was sincere, so after a second, I sat down again.

"Sorry if what I said was insensitive. I… had an eating disorder when I was fourteen, up until I was about nineteen, so I know how it feels. I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's alright," I said stiffly, trying not to react much to his confession. "I just… don't want to talk about it. That's for tonight, right?"

"Yeah. You're right."

I nodded and looked ahead at our car-lined street as Edward's confession sunk in. He had an eating disorder? He looked perfectly healthy, but I also didn't know how old he was. He definitely was old enough to be out of college since he was a nutritionist, which came with extra schooling. He had to be under thirty, meaning it's been quite some time for him to recover.

"Are you thinking about it?" Edward suddenly asked. I looked at him, confused. He continued, "About half as many males in America suffer from anorexia than females. We're not as known about, but trust me… we exist. For me, it was all about being left in my brother's shadow. He was captain of the football team, he was student president in his class, he was the prom king and I was just his little brother. I never felt good enough. People would always say hi to me, but address me as Emmett's chubby little brother, almost like I didn't even have a name. I wanted to better my way, somehow… so I started exercising more and eating less.

This became what I knew. I ran every morning and every night. I went to the gym as much as possible. I didn't want to eat. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't see what other people saw as I started losing all this weight – I saw someone who needed to keep changing. It got so bad at one point that I had to be rushed to the hospital after passing out and stayed six months in a care facility because I was on the brink of death."

He took a deep breath and I let his words sink in. I imagined Edward as a fourteen-year-old kid, chubby, and devastatingly miserable. Then I imagined him skinnier than what should be possible to the point where he was almost dying.

"What made it better?"

The question was out before I really had a chance to stop it, but once it was, I realized that I really wanted to know. What made life worth living for him? What made him turn his life around so drastically and successfully?

"Well… I want to say because I was so malnourished, I almost died, but that isn't exactly it. Not completely. For some reason, I didn't care much that I could die. I was miserable – I didn't have any friends, I was an outcast. My family was there, but… I just wasn't happy, no matter how hard they tried to make it better. But one day, when my mom thought I was asleep in the hospital, she was crying with my dad. They were talking about how they were going to have a baby and how I wouldn't see my little brother grow up like this. They were crying about how they'd never see _me_ grow up. I'm not exactly sure what changed me so suddenly, but at that point I wanted to live. I didn't want to see them break down anymore and I wanted to see my little brother be born. It was hard, and it took about three years for me to finally be more comfortable in my skin. I was finally maintaining a healthy weight and for once in my life, I didn't feel restricted by my self-doubt and insecurities."

"Did… that make you want to help people like me?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it did."

"Oh," I murmured. I was enamored that he was able to share so much with me, but maybe that came easily with his want to help others and because he overcame his struggles.

"I'll see you later, then?" he questioned as he rose. "I have to head down to the center now."

"Yeah, okay."

I waved and watched him head back into his home, most likely to change his clothing.

* * *

The therapy group session was nice, but I was happy when it ended. Dr. Cullen had made us all go around and say something nice about the person sitting to our left. Peter was sitting beside me, but I didn't know him or anyone well enough to comment on his personality. I said that I liked his haircut, however. Bree was the one who complimented me and said that she liked my smile, although I don't remember smiling ever in her presence. After that, she had us create some art depicting what we thought would be our road to recovery and then we shared that.

Mine was a long, winding lane that had many pitstops along the way: a look in the mirror, which led down a dark path of relapse. There were many rocks and large puddles that acted as hurdles that I labeled _weight gain_ and _food_. I included my mother as one of the hurdles as well, a rather large one with a rough, bumpy texture and an unyielding appearance. There were some signs of encouragement that I did draw off to the side on my map, which included a sign that said support, one that said hope, another said new friends and the last one was therapy. At the end of the road, everyone else drew what their recovery would look like. A beautiful sunset. A home, with a family inside and large smiles taking over their faces. A cloud bubble with the word dreams in it. However, at the end of my road, there was nothing.

As Dr. Cullen asked us to show our pictures, I was hesitant to lift mines up. Her eyes were gentle as they scrutinized my work. "Would you like to share about why you didn't draw what you think your recovery would look like, Bella?"

Not really. "Well… I just can't picture it. I don't know if I just can't imagine it being real or if I don't want it to be real… but nothing came to mind. There's nothing waiting for me at the end of my road."

"Do you really believe that?" she asked.

I nodded. "I do."

I expected her to say some shit that a therapist would say about why that isn't true or whatever, but instead she nodded with a tiny smile and announced that the session was over and it was time to go see Edward, which I wholly welcomed.

Today, we were brought grilled trout with carrots, string beans and a roll of bread. I looked in disdain at the bread roll, but said nothing as the plate was set in front of me.

Like he said yesterday, today Edward had us do an exposure. I thought eating in front of so many people at a time was enough exposure, but Edward wanted to step it up. He had us sit directly across from someone, at different tables, and wanted us to converse as we ate. I dreaded this insanely, especially because I was paired up with Jasper. He seemed like a nice guy, but it just felt incredibly uncomfortable.

"So… hey," he said, a soft smile on his face.

"Hi," I mumbled and looked at my fork beside my plate. Jasper began to eat while I continued to stare and clench my teeth. The level of discomfort I was feeling at the moment made me want to paw at every inch of myself until there was nothing left to grab. I willed for this session to be over with, but of course, it felt like years.

Edward came over a few minutes later and assessed the situation. "Nice, Jasper," he appraised my table mate and my eyes instinctively shot up to his plate. He was half way done. "Are you okay, Bella?" Edward asked. I looked at him and saw the softness and understanding in his gaze. When he began to blur, I realized that tears were gathering in my eyes and I snatched my gaze away before he could tell. "I know it's tough," he told me. "You just need to try, okay? Just relax and try. Jasper isn't judging you. I'm not judging you. We're here to support you."

I gnawed at my bottom lip until it felt raw. Then, after one more look at Jasper and Edward, I picked up my fork and began to eat the fish. I had an intense urge to spit it out as soon as it landed on my tongue, but I chewed languidly for a few moments before swallowing in triumph. Edward grinned my way and nodded. "Great, Bella. That was good."

I nodded at him and continued to eat the fish slowly.

Jasper tried to start up conversation again and I tried hard not to think much about how he'd be catching glimpses of me eating as we spoke. He told me a little bit about his life and I told him a little bit about mine – how I just moved from Olympia with my mom because my grandfather died and he left everything for his estranged daughter. I told him about my obsession with exercising. I told him what foods I absolutely would _not_ eat – like candy, fried foods, stuff like that.

At the end of the session, Edward told us all to write on a piece of paper we were given what three foods we hate the most and why. We'd be having another exposure tomorrow and it didn't take much brain power to figure out what it would be. I considered lying, but then, of course Edward had to add something before we began writing.

"Now, you can all lie about what your least favorite meals would be so that you never have to be exposed to your real least favorite, but just remember that it helps no one to do that. _Especially_ you."

 _1._ _French fires – they have a lot of calories_

 _2._ _Chocolate bar – they have a lot of calories_

 _3._

I blanked on the last one. There were so many, and French fries and chocolate bars were definitely one of the top, but I couldn't think of a third one. I could say cake or cookies, but I feel like those fit in the general area of a chocolate bar. I thought hard, then remembered something that I adored when I was younger. A Pop-Tart.

After giving my paper to Edward, we all said goodbye to each other before I left to meet up with my mother. I expected her to be in the foyer like yesterday, but she wasn't there. I pulled out my phone, ready to call her, when I saw that she had sent me a text message to me earlier saying she was stuck at the office and would be there a little late.

I groaned and plopped down in one of the plush chairs. A little late to mom could stretch to a couple of hours. I really needed a car, but mom never got me one and I definitely couldn't pay for it myself. She said that I needed to get my issue under control before she could even consider it.

"Hey, Bella. You okay?"

I looked up and smiled at Alice as she sat next to me. She was extremely small –in height and stature. "Yeah, I'm okay. My mom will be late picking me up."

"Where do you live?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Would it be bad to say I don't know? We just moved in two days ago and I don't really know how to differentiate each part of the city."

Alice laughed. "Oh, don't worry. I've been living in Philly all my life, but still have trouble navigating through the city at times. I can give you a ride, though."

"Oh, no… but you don't even know how far I live from you. It could take you out your way," I resisted. Alice smirked. "Well, that's just more time to get to know you then. Come on."

Alice didn't seem like a person who backed down from a protest, and I was definitely one who acquiesced without much objection. So, unsurprisingly, I found myself in her compacted smart car five minutes later, after calling my mom to update her, and typing my address into her GPS.

"Oh, that isn't too far from where I live," she told me. "How long have you been living there?"

"Just a few days," I shared. "My mom and I moved here after she inherited her father's home when he passed recently."

"I'm sorry," she offered sympathetically, to which I just nodded and smiled kindly to. I didn't really care to go off into how I was never really close with him.

If I thought the ride home with a girl I knew for only two days would be awkward, I was wrong. Even being as socially inept as I am, I was able to easily fall into a conversation with Alice. She spoke to me about Philly and how her parents moved her and her sister here when they were about five because they loved the history of the city. Her sister's name is Rose, who is two years older than her and they have a tiny, but comfortable apartment downtown. She talks about Rose like she's this beacon of light in her darkest tunnels, but there's also a hint of sadness laced within her tone that's painfully blatant. The memories she shares with me of them seems to be haunted by the burden of her disorder, a sad truth that I knew of so well.

Besides her sister, Alice was also so passionate about ballet – or, she used to be. She tells me that not eating for long periods of times and performing do not mix well together and that she once was a part of the Pennsylvania Ballet Company before she collapsed on stage during a showing of the _Nutcracker_. From what I've seen, Alice is lively and vivid, despite her weaknesses, but when she talked about dancing, it's almost like the happiness inside her drowns in the conquering dominance of her disorder.

But as quick as the sadness appeared, it disappeared when we arrived at my house.

"Thanks for the ride, Alice," I said, smiling. She nodded and waved. "See you tomorrow? Oh! And your number – so we can talk some more when we don't have to go into the center."

Nodding, I gave her my number and she gave me hers. "Great! Bye, Bella."

I waved as she drove off with her tiny car before turning to enter my house, but then I realized that I didn't have a key yet. Mom had the only one.

"Fuck," I groaned. I debated whether or not if I should call mom, but she'd be too annoyed with me for interrupting her work. Instead, I sat down on my stoop and pulled out my phone. Angela had texted earlier, asking how my new center was.

 _It's great – I made a friend already. And it's such a small world because guess what? My neighbor is my nutritionist and his mom is my group therapist_.

I sent off that text and opened up my Facebook app, figuring that Angela was probably busy with her family right now. Facebook was a good way to pass time while I waited for my mother by watching funny videos and reading interesting articles and videos shared by "friends" who I haven't seen since high school. Honestly, Facebook was just an excuse to stalk people who you may have talked to once or twice, but never fully knew. I seemed to be Facebook friends with most of my graduating class, but I only remember their persistent stares and gossiping, nothing more. I'm not even sure why they would friend me.

About thirty minutes later, a red Subaru pulled up. My eyebrows rose as Dr. Cullen and Edward exited the car. This was the first time I saw Dr. Cullen here - I was starting to think she lived somewhere else for some reason.

"Hello, Bella," Dr. Cullen greeted warmly. "Getting some fresh air?"

"Oh, no… um, I actually can't get inside. My mom has the keys," I explained.

"Really? Well, why don't you come in for a little bit? It's pretty chilly out here," she insisted, which I dreaded very much. Well. It would be weird to say no, right?

* * *

What do you think?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

Like my grandparents' house, the Cullen's house was very nice – which was expected, of course. I didn't know what Edward and Masen's father did, but both him and Esme had very nice, stable jobs and their home reflected this. Thinking of this made me briefly wonder why Edward was living here, instead of his own place, but of course I would never ask him.

"I also wanted to give my condolences for your grandfather," Dr. Cullen said sweetly. "I didn't know him like Edward and Masen did, but I knew he was a nice man."

"Thank you," I told her, smiling timidly. Dr. Cullen smiled back and turned to Edward. "I'm going to go take a shower – your father should be home soon with Masen."

Edward nodded and Dr. Cullen walked up the steps, leaving me and him alone. I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet as my heart thundered wildly in my chest at being placed in this position.

"I know I shouldn't talk about therapy with you right now," Edward spoke, making my head snap towards his quickly. "But I just really wanted to say that you did great today."

"Thanks," I mumbled, tucking some hair behind my ear.

"Do you know when your mom is gonna get home?" he asked. I shrugged. "No. She didn't say when, but she'll probably call me when she gets off."

He nodded. "Okay. Want anything to drink?"

"Um… water?" I asked. Edward nodded again and stood to grab a glass. While he was gone, I decided to peek around the living room some more. There were so many family pictures along the walls, on the mantle, and on the accent tables around the room. One really caught my attention, of a young kid who was overweight. He stood next to a slightly younger looking Esme and a man, who I assumed was his father. Surprisingly, there was also another girl in the picture, probably around my age. She had long, blonde hair that curled around the ends and shimmered in the light of the photo. Her eyes were a striking blue and her skin looked smooth and porcelain like. Despite how unnervingly beautiful she was, she didn't look happy at all. She was frowning, and instead of looking straight into the camera like everyone else, she was looking off and down, as if submerged into a train of thought unsettling to her.

My eyes bounced around the other frames to see if she was in any other photos. There was another one of a little girl, maybe seven or eight, with shimmery pigtails and a bright, toothless smile. Besides those two, none of the other pictures featured the girl.

"You okay?"

Edward's sudden reappearance made me jump. I looked at him, standing by the arch leading towards the kitchen and a glass of water in his hand. "Um, yeah. Sorry."

"No, you're fine. You just look, I don't know. Confused."

"I'm okay," I insisted, just as my phone rang. I answered the phone immediately, knowing it was Renee.

"Bella? Where are you?"

"Um, next door. I didn't have a key," I replied.

I could practically hear the breath gush out of her mouth. "And is there a particular reason why you didn't contact me? I walk into the house and expect you to be there, too, but you weren't."

"I know. I'm sorry, mom," I apologized. Renee sighed. "It's fine, I suppose."

"Okay. I'll see you in a minute."

I looked at Edward with a grateful smile. "Thanks for letting me come in here for a minute."

"No problem," he said, smiling. He went to open the door for me and I stepped out. "See you tomorrow."

"See you," I responded, waving as I stepped onto my stoop. Mom had just come to the door and opened it for me.

"Hey," I said, stepping inside.

"Hi," she sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know, next time you need to just _think_ before doing things. I walked into the house and you weren't there… what the hell am I supposed to think, Bella?"

I frowned, surprised at how upset she was. "I was right next door, mom. It's not like I tried to kill myself."

"Yeah, because that would be so far-fetched," she said bitterly. I looked at her with furrowed eyebrows and I'm sure a hurt look masking my face at her words. Instead of looking at me, she was looking at her phone, scrolling through whatever work-related shit.

"Good night," I mumbled before turning towards the steps and jogging to my room. Even thought she would hate it, when I got to my room, I slammed the door shut and slid down it, onto the floor. Silence enveloped me in the empty, hollow room as I sat looking at nothing and wanting my brain – wanting _everything_ – to turn off. But my emotions, my thoughts, they buzzed around in my body like a persistent parasite, sucking out what little life I had in me.

The phone vibrated in my pocket and I fished it out. Angela had replied to my text.

 _A friend?! That's great! They'll never be as cool as me though just so you know ;) And a small world indeed. Are you happy there?_

 _Am_ I happy there? I'm not even happy here, in my new home, in my own room. But I didn't want her to worry.

 _Yes, I'm happy_.

 _I'm glad, Bella. I'm going to get some rest. Goodnight! xo_

 _Goodnight_

I turned my phone off and rested my forehead against my knees. I could practically feel the food from earlier sitting in my stomach, taking up the cramped space that I'd allowed my body to become accustomed to. I considered making myself throw up, but I didn't have a private bathroom and if mom caught me, she'd start making me go to the bathroom and shower with the door open again.

Instead of suffering in my own mind, I decided to crawl into bed and go to sleep.

* * *

The day until my next session was just an uneventful blur. I didn't go on a run today, so I just sat home and stared at the TV screen as different shows popped up onto the screen. When mom came home from work, we barely spoke as she drove me to the center.

"We have another session with Dr. Cope today. To discuss how the last two sessions have been or you," mom said when she parked. "I wanted to talk to you first, though, since we haven't really had time."

"Okay," I mumbled.

"I'm paying a lot of money for this center, Bella. A lot. This time cannot be a failure – you cannot be a failure. So, honestly, tell me how you've been these past two days. How were the sessions?"

"They were…" I swallowed. "Hard. Not really group, that was kind of okay. But eating with the nutritionist, well, that was really difficult."

"As it should be. I'm glad they do it, though. You need that kind of push, which is why I'm always so hard on you," she shared. "Okay, let's go inside now."

As I walked in, I saw Alice right away. I smiled and waved timidly at her, which she responded to kindly before disappearing into a room.

"Is that a friend?" mom asked. I nodded. "Great. Just make sure you make the _right_ friends – they cannot be another Victoria."

"Mom, I _know_ ," I said, a bit surprised she brought Victoria up.

Her eyebrow rose as her gaze pinned me down. "Do you, though?" I had to look away from her simmering stare and wrapped the fabric of my cardigan around my knuckles. "Bella?"

"Yes," I mumbled lowly. _I'm not stupid. Stop condescending me_.

"Good."

Dr. Cope emerged minutes later. She smiled at us both before ushering us inside the room that we'd been in before.

"So," she started off, dragging out a clipboard. "Typically, we do check-ups like this sporadically throughout your treatment here. This one is just for me to get a feel with how you're adjusting, or maybe if you're not adjusting at all."

"Okay," I said, nodding.

"So, Ms. Higginbottom, this isn't really one you'd really need to partake in. I like for the parents to sit in, if the patient is comfortable, but it isn't necessary," Dr. Cope said.

Renee waved her comment off. "Bella wants me here, so you can proceed."

Dr. Cope's smile was almost a bit tight before she turned to me. "Right. I'd just like to hear it from Bella." Renee's eyes also swiveled to meet mine and I looked at the ground. "It's okay," I mumbled quietly. I heard Dr. Cope take in a short breath.

"Okay. Well, how about we just start with you telling me how the past two days have been."

I looked at her. "Well… the group sessions are okay. Dr. Cullen didn't force me to tell my story aloud just yet, so – "

"Well, why can't you share that?" Renee demanded, frowning. "Honestly, Bella. You need to stop with the childish behavior and confront your problems. How are you supposed to overcome them if you can't even speak about it?"

Dr. Cope frowned. "Ms. Higginbottom, I'm glad that you want to be in here, but I need to hear from Bella during this session. Please, continue Bella."

"Uh…" I looked at Renee, who's eyes were narrowed and she had somewhat of an annoyed look on her face. "Um, well, I was saying that Dr. Cullen didn't make me speak aloud to everyone about why I'm here, but I did participate the first day talking about other people's, um, conditions." Renee snorted softly and my shoulders began to tense up. "And the drawing session yesterday was okay, I guess. I shared my picture aloud. Um, but eating with the nutritionist was hard."

Dr. Cope nodded and smiled softly at me. "Dr. Cullen typically waits until you're comfortable to share your whole story with everyone, because it is completely understandable if you're not ready to share yet. But even if you didn't share your whole story, you still talked in in front of everyone about your artwork, which is just as amazing." I nodded as she said this and as a blood pooled in my cheeks, not use to the praise in such a simplistic thing. "Can you tell me more about your time with the nutritionist?"

"Well, I just find it hard to eat in front of people. So, um… it was just an emotional thing for me to do."

"You eat fine in front of me," Renee brought up, her tone accusatory. I swallowed, thinking about the time when I didn't want to and she practically had to shove the food down my throat. "You _force_ me eat in front of you," I basically spat, surprising myself with how easily that slipped out. I couldn't even meet her eyes, but the tension in the room suddenly grew even tenser.

I shifted uncomfortably and Dr. Cope sighed. "Actually, Ms. Higginbottom, I think I would like to speak with Bella privately for a moment."

"Fine. I can't listen to this bullshit any longer, anyway. If I find out this center is enabling her, I am pulling her and my money out just as quickly as I brought her in," Renee threatened before standing and walking out.

"Sorry," I apologized. Dr. Cope smiled. "No, you can't help the way your mother acts. Some parents just don't get it and the confusion turns into hostility and borderline verbal abuse." She jotted something down on her board quickly before looking up at me. "Now – let's really begin. I want to talk about your mother."

"Um… okay."

"Like I said, your mother's behavior is very hostile. How does that aggression towards you make you feel?"

"Like shit," I murmured. "I mean, I know I deserve it. Countless medical bills, countless treatment centers… a lot of her time wasted on me all because I can't eat." As I started talking, my eyes started to well up in tears and I tried to catch them before they fell over onto my cheeks, but there were so many of them. "I'm not really surprised that she hates me, I just… it hurts."

"You really think she hates you?" Dr. Cope asked softly.

I nodded. "Yes. I mean… why not? I'm a problem. I'm like… hammering jelly to a wall. I just won't cooperate and I want to, but… I _can't_."

"How about we tack on a 'yet' at the end of that sentence, yeah? Don't say you can't, Bella… because you are _strong_. And I also think that your mom loves you so much – more than you think. She loves you because she wants the best for you, yet, she's also frustrated because she can't help you past taking you to your treatments and making sure you eat. You just need to keep being strong and make sure that you're helping yourself."

* * *

The meeting with Dr. Cope didn't take much longer. We talked a little bit more about Renee and then Dr. Cope asked me if I was excited about getting better, to which I said yes to.

When I walked into group, everyone was sitting and facing each other. Jasper was speaking, his eyes down to the floor. "I was seventeen. I had just collapsed, but the worst part was that I was in a staircase at school. I fell down the stairs and broke a few bones because they'd gotten so brittle. I had to stay in the hospital for a while and I wouldn't speak to anyone. They put me on suicide watch and few me through a tube because I didn't want to eat. It caused my father to drink even more. One day, he was just incredibly drunk, but he got into the car with my mom anyway. It took five minutes on the road for them to crash and for my mom and… a _ten-year-old girl_ … to die instantly. I don't even think she knew he was really drunk, because she wouldn't have gotten into the car. He was charged with vehicular homicide and sentenced to jail." Jasper let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair as tears fell down his cheeks. "I know that you guys tell me it isn't my fault, but it is. If I was normal, my mother would still be alive, my father wouldn't be in jail and that girl would have been fifteen right now." He took a long, deep breath in before looking up. "And so that was the worst point in my life caused by my disorder."

"Thank you for sharing that, Jasper," Dr. Cullen said somberly. "It was incredibly brave of you. Does anyone have anything to say to Jasper?"

Alice raised her hand. "It's not your fault, Jasp. You didn't put the bottle in your father's hands– he chose to. You didn't make him get behind the wheel, either. It's not your fault." She was sitting beside him and placed a hand over his. He smiled softly and Dr. Cullen was smiling as well. "Thank you, Alice. Anyone else?"

"I agree," Bree spoke up. "I think Alice put what we're all thinking into words."

Dr. Cullen nodded and turned to me. "Bella? Would you like to share? You came in a bit later, but we're just discussing about the lowest or worst part you've experienced while living with your disorder."

I really didn't, but, Renee was right, no matter how harsh her words were. I needed to confront my issues. "Um, okay. Well… when I was about seventy-five pounds or so when I was eighteen, during my senior year of high school. It wasn't a particular moment that was the worst, but a time period. My teachers noticed how much weight I lost before my mother did and when they called her… well, I still remember the look on her face. She looked frightened, almost. I don't know if she was frightened by how, I guess, disgusting I must have looked, or if she was frightened by the fact that I could die. Whichever it was, she took me to the hospital and I was fed through an NG tube, uh, just like Jasper. Then, I did about six months in an inpatient care facility, but it didn't help much. I was depressed and just… um, well, I wanted to give up. I didn't like who I was and I wasn't interested in seeing tomorrow."

It was the first time I spoke about how much I thought of suicide at that time. Sure, depression was brought up during my therapy sessions, but whenever I was asked if I thought about self-harm, I always answered no.

"Um, I guess I was just too scared to do anything about it, though. And, well… that's it, I guess."

Dr. Cullen nodded. "Thank you for sharing, Bella. Does anyone want to say anything?"

"Well, I just want to say that I feel like you've come a long way," Alice said. "I mean, from what you described. Seventy-five pounds is really light, so you seem a lot healthier now and you look amazing."

Maggie raised her hand. "I agree. I was depressed for so long and hand the same thoughts, but it's nice when you feel like life is finally worth living, right?"

I smiled a bit. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."

* * *

When the eating portion of the day came, my mood fell south – but I would be strong about it. I'm going to eat without tearing up or feeling bad about myself.

Edward smiled at me as I sat down in my seat and I returned it.

"Good evening, everyone. As you probably all guessed, you will be eating what you put on the list of food you ate. We'll make it a fun game. For every food item you eat, you get a chance to pick a raffle. The winner with the winning ticket will win a prize."

"Oooh," Alice hummed beside me.

"Now, a lot of you put junk on your lists – which is totally fine. After you eat small portions of stuff on your list, you're still going to be required to eat a meal. Everyone cool so far?" When we gave him an affirmative answer, he moved on. "Alright. Let's start."

Edward pulled out the papers from yesterday. "Peter, looks like you're first. And your first item is a cookie, so… I brought a pack of Oreos for you." Peter nodded and stood to take the snack. Edward handed him the rest of his stuff, which included a Twinkie and a half of a grilled cheese sandwich. After Peter, Edward went through the rest of the papers. Alice got list a snickers bar, a half a burger, and white toast. Maggie put down a bagel, potato chips, and donut. Jasper put down fries, bacon and a cupcake. Bree put on her list, a cupcake as well, some type of candy bar and French fries. When Edward finally called me up, I accepted my candy bar, Pop Tart and French fries.

"Okay, so, just to remind you so you're not all sending me dentist bills – you do not have to eat all three items. I know they're all bad for you, but I think this is a good exposure so you know that it's okay to indulge every once in a while, as long as it's in moderation. So, you can all start if you want."

I turned to my items and sighed disdainfully.

"Ugh, I don't think I can even look at the burger," Alice said. "White bread, with ketchup and mayo. I mean…"

"Yeah," I agreed. "I think I'll just eat one tonight." I didn't know which to choose, though. I just decided to pick up the Pop Tart and broke off a small piece to put into my mouth. As soon as it touched my tongue, I had a strong urge to spit it out, but I forced myself to chew until I swallowed.

"Nice work," Edward praised as he came over to our table. "You as well, Alice." I turned my head to see that she was chomping on the burger. I raised my eyebrows and she smiled sheepishly. "It's the hardest thing for me to eat on the plate, so I wanted to challenge myself."

Edward grinned. "That's great. Remember, you don't have to eat everything, though."

Alice nodded and then Edward walked away. I surprisingly finished my Pop Tart quicker than I expected, and was even more surprised to realize that it hadn't been all that bad.

"You're okay?" Alice asked, smiling. I nodded, taking in a deep breath and letting my own smile take over my face. "Yeah. I really am."

* * *

Thoughts?

I also wanted to address the fact that I'm not a therapist, as you most likely know, but I did attend therapy for reasons that aren't the same as Bella's disorder, so I'm just trying to display how my therapist came across to me, despite the very different situations. Even more than that, I'm not entirely sure what goes on in an anorexia group session either, I just loosely based this center off of a center I found online that does group sessions and it also has a nutritionist work with outpatients three days a week in the evenings. If you wanted to know, it's called The Renfrew Center and is actually located in Philadelphia, as well as many other states and cities, although the one in Philly is completely residential. But like I said, it's only loosely based off of the actual center.

Anyhow, tell me your thoughts in a review :)


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